


Impossible

by Esteliel



Category: His Dark Materials (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Boreal Has Feelings, Fix-It, M/M, The Cat Incident
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:47:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22703437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esteliel/pseuds/Esteliel
Summary: It was hard to look away from Thomas. Boreal’s chest still felt tight—as if his daemon had crawled inside him to hide there, like the daemons of this world, and had wrapped herself tightly around his heart, squeezing until he could barely breathe and felt a stab inside his chest at every beat.
Relationships: Carlo Boreal/Thomas
Comments: 5
Kudos: 23
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 5





	Impossible

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aurilly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurilly/gifts).



The word had echoed through his head since he’d first received the call.

“Something’s gone wrong. I think... I think Thomas is dead.”

Boreal shook his head as if to dislodge an annoying fly.

_Impossible._

He stared at the street in front of him, the quiet streets of this residential part of Oxford utterly silent. It was late enough that all windows were dark. The Tesla was fast and efficient, soundlessly gliding through streets and turning corners. Boreal kept to the speed limit. It wouldn’t do to make mistakes now.

_Impossible._

The word pulsed through him in time with his heartbeat as he entered the house. Walters was there—the man he should have gotten rid of a while ago, once it became apparent that he wasn’t going to deliver results.

Unlike Thomas, who’d never disappointed him.

Boreal brushed Walters away, not listening to his panicked explanations. He could see for himself what had happened. It wasn’t hard to figure it out.

Thomas was on the floor, unmoving, not breathing. A floor above, the wooden handrail was broken. Had someone pushed him? Had he stumbled and fallen?

Unimportant now. What mattered was that Boreal had made a mistake. He made mistakes very rarely—but sending Thomas to do the work of a lesser man had been such a mistake.

He’d sent a useful ally to do the work of a common thief, and now he’d lost the one man whom he could trust to actually do his work.

_Impossible_ something whispered inside his head, and Boreal shook his head again, as baffled by the insistent voice as by the sight of Thomas before him, dead on the floor.

“There was a cat. I think he startled it—”

Boreal strode past Walters into the room, eyes still on Thomas. He’d never seen him so still before. Thomas was all nervous energy, fingers constantly moving over keys when he was at work, and even when he was asleep, the few times Boreal had decided that it was too much of a bother to leave after fucking him, he’d shift in his sleep, mumble something, twist and turn until Boreal was forced to wrap an arm around him to keep him still.

Slowly, Boreal went to his knees. Thomas looked utterly lifeless in the light of the torch the other man was shining at him.

“We thought the house was empty. We had no idea the boy was—”

“The boy’s important. You should have known.”

Boreal reached out. His brow furrowed as he realized that his fingers trembled when he pressed them against Thomas’ forehead. His chest was tight; he had to swallow before he could speak, as if something in the air made it impossible to breathe in deeply.

“You mess up. You ask for help. I give you Thomas, and you—”

He couldn’t continue. Thomas’ skin was still warm against his fingertips. He curled his fingers into a fist and squeezed his eyes shut.

“I should never have given you Thomas. Never. But this was the last mistake you made.”

This time, Walters had the good sense to remain silent. Boreal felt sudden fury boil up in him, together with a sudden anger at this world in which men cowardly hid their demons inside them. What he wouldn’t give for the opportunity to clench his hands around the man’s daemon, to let him see what it felt like to have something important taken from you…

Then there was a sound. At first Boreal thought that he’d imagined it. He kept his eyes closed against the truth in front of him, but his daemon had sensed it too and came forward, soundless dropping from his sleeve to the floor.

“I should have searched the house,” she said softly. “I would have found—”

Abruptly, she fell silent. Boreal opened his eyes. He could feel that something had shocked her.

Had the boy returned? Or had their torches attracted one of the neighbours?

His daemon was staring at Thomas. As he watched, her tongue came out repeatedly to taste the air.

Then she went forward, curling herself rapidly around Thomas’s throat. Her tongue fluttered against his lips as she froze for a moment, watching, waiting, while Boreal suppressed a shiver at the thrill of the sudden contact.

A moment later, she turned back towards him and announced in satisfaction, “He’s not dead. He has a pulse. And look, he’s breathing.”

Impossible, Boreal thought again as he leaned forward. He curved one hand around Thomas’s throat to feel for the pulse himself as his daemon slithered out of the way, then bent over him, placing his ear close to his mouth.

And there it was. A faint but steady pulse against his fingertips and the sound of shallow breathing.

“He’s not dead,” Boreal repeated. “Get me a doctor. _Now._ Someone who won’t ask questions.”

He didn’t turn to make sure that Walters was following his orders—they were both aware that he’d used up all of his chances. If Walters wanted to make it out of this house alive, he’d do as Boreal told him.

Meanwhile, Boreal cupped Thomas’s cheek.

“Can you hear me? Thomas? It’s time to wake up.”

“He might have broken his neck,” his daemon supplied, now perching on his shoulder to peer down at Thomas with him. “Or his spine.”

“Or he’s just knocked himself out,” Boreal murmured. He narrowed his eyes at his hand. His fingers were still trembling. What was the matter with him today?

“Wake up for me, Thomas. Come on.”

Thomas’s eyelashes began to flutter a little. His lips parted, and Boreal felt compelled to gently trace his thumb along his cheek. 

Then Thomas’s eyes opened. He exhaled with a little groan. He looked dazed, his pupils so wide his eyes looked black—but after a moment, he began to blink and focus on Boreal’s face.

“That’s it,” Boreal said encouragingly. “Don’t move. You fell and knocked yourself out. Can you move your fingers?”

A moment later, Thomas’s hands twitched weakly. Before he knew what he’d done, Boreal found himself wrapping his own hand around Thomas’s.

“Very good. Now your feet. Can you move your toes?”

“My head hurts,” Thomas mumbled. “What happened?”

Thomas’s feet twitched as well, and Boreal exhaled in relief.

“Good. It doesn’t look like you’ve injured your spine. You’ve tripped over a cat, I hear.”

Thomas’s face scrunched. “I don’t really remember anything. My head hurts…”

“Probably just a concussion,” Boreal said soothingly. “Now stay still. A doctor’s coming—”

Before he’d even finished his sentence, Thomas was already struggling to sit up. Boreal hastily grabbed hold of his shoulders to hold him down, but then thought better of it. If he felt good enough to want to sit, his spine had to be fine.

“I could use a painkiller,” Thomas said. “Wait—I think I remember the boy. What happened to him?”

“Don’t worry about that now,” Boreal said.

It was a lie—the boy was eminently important. Maybe more important than anything else he’d found so far. Boreal should be out there, organizing a hunt instead of coddling another ally who’d failed him.

But then, it wasn’t Thomas who’d failed. Boreal should never have allowed him to help with the search. It was the other who’d nearly cost him Thomas.

“I’m sorry,” Thomas murmured. “I know how much you wanted the letters. I really wanted to get them for you…”

“I know,” Boreal said calmly. “I know you always want to help.”

Unlike certain others.

He wrapped his arm around Thomas to hold him close. He wanted to kiss him, but hesitated. If Walters realized that Thomas made him vulnerable, just when Boreal had decided to get rid of him…

“A doctor’s going to look at you and then I’m going to take you back home. All right? And then you can use your skills to find that boy for me. You love playing with CCTV, don’t you?”

Thomas smiled weakly at the thought. “I’ll have him for you in a few hours, I promise.”

“No promises now.”

It was hard to look away from Thomas. Boreal’s chest still felt tight—as if his daemon had crawled inside him to hide there, like the daemons of this world, and had wrapped herself tightly around his heart, squeezing until he could barely breathe and felt a stab inside his chest at every beat.

Maybe this was what happened to people who stayed in this world for too long. Maybe he should leave and never come back, destroy his research, retire from the Magisterium. He had enough money to buy lands in New Denmark or even an island off the coast of the Austral Empire.

Thomas’s breath came shallow and hot against Boreal’s throat. He turned his head again to look down at him. Thomas’s brow was furrowed, his eyes still wide with shock and pain.

It would be so easy to leave all this behind. One simple step through a window and Thomas would be gone, together with this tightness in his chest. He’d never be plagued by it again. He could learn to be content with the riches and the power of his own world.

But then, he knew it was already too late for that.

Gently, he kissed Thomas, ignoring their audience. After a moment, Thomas’s lips parted, his mouth soft and hot against his own, a breathless moan breaking free despite his recent brush with death. When Boreal drew back, he smoothed a thumb along Thomas’s cheek again until his creased forehead relaxed and he settled more comfortably against Boreal’s shoulder.

Boreal smiled, the tightness in his chest easing at last.

He’d have to get rid of Walters now. There’d been too much trouble already. He couldn’t afford mistakes, with the boy on the run.

But there was time to deal with it all. Especially now that he had Thomas back—and with him, access to this world’s facial recognition.


End file.
